neal learner

Poetry (& Lyrics) Wall

What Touches Us

N. Learner | May 2026

The Grand Canyon is a sight to see
Of vistas stretching to infinity
Of cliffs dropping deep into the void
Simply spying the edge makes me paranoid

Beethoven’s 9^th is a grand sonic joy
A pinnacle of music that so employs
Melody and rhythm to marvelous effect
A bombastic climax, that’s darn near perfect

Indian curry grips me in its savory vice
Mouthwatering flavors of tongue-tingling spice
My plate, I’ll consume with gusto and haste
Each bite a celebration of exotic taste

Flowers each spring release their sweet scents
An olfactory delight that announces the presence
Of regrowth and life, and all things that are well
Warm tidings blow in on a perfumed smell

One more sense is key to humankind
A sense that arguably leaves the others behind
Without it we’d shrivel, we need it so much
Life can’t be lived without the power of touch

Fingers caressing a baby’s sweet face
Bodies entwined in love’s warm embrace
A physical, mystical, inexplicable part
Of being alive, the touch the heart

What touches us!

I Love Dirt

N. Learner | April 2026

I love the dirt
Under my feet
Covered in grass
Covered in concrete

When I was a boy
I’d dig down deep holes
Hang with the dark denizens
Grubs, worms, and moles

Dirt is the stuff
That keeps us well grounded
Everywhere I look
There it is, I’m astounded 

On beaches of sand
Under fields of cornstalks
Up mountains and canyons
I see dirt’s cousins…the rocks

Nothing is finer 
Than grabbing a handful
Smelling its richness
Watching it crumble 

Dirt sets the terms 
Of my annual bargain
I offer seeds, water and sun
Dirt gives me a garden

Leaves
N. Learner/November 2025

Leaves do it right

In the autumn of their lives
They put on displays of unabashed brilliance
Bursting forth in the most glorious hues of
Reds, yellows, maroons, scarlets
Reaching a peak of splendid exuberance 

And when it’s their time to bid adieu

They’ll float gently down by the millions
A bitter-sweet moment in the passage of time
Scattering yards with crunchy abandon
A carpet of color that demands to be reckoned with
Raked into piles for jumping, tossing, laughing
Gathered into compost for worms, grubs, centipedes 

Nourishment for flowers and plants in next year’s garden beds

Humans should be more like leaves

In the autumn of our lives
We should put on displays of shameless vibrancy
Puttering forth in our most outlandish floral dresses
Proudly wearing that old tie-dye T-shirt
Draping our necks in purple, gold and green Mardi Gras beads   

And when it’s our time to bid adieu

Let’s float gently down on a million memories 
Holding sweet moments in this passage of a lifetime
Let’s scatter our stories to willing ears
Decades of experiences to be reckoned with
Children, grandchildren jumping in our laps
Laughter gathering in bright smiles

Nourishment for our offspring in the seasons to come

Yes, humans should leave as leaves

Full of color
Full of majesty 
Going out with a grand finale

Tie Up My Laces
N. Learner – October 2025

I have a fraught relationship with laces
Those strings on your shoes that help you go places
As a kid, mine were always coming untied
Climbing the monkey bars, sliding the slide

My teacher would shout, “Neal, tie those up now”
I’d slink in my shame, I didn’t know how
Something about looping the ends in two bunny ears
Pulling them tight, straightening the whiskers

Of course I did learn, I turned out all right
These days I’m an expert at tying them tight
But still they come loose, I feel beyond hope
I’ve tried all the tricks, like scraping them with bar soap

So now I’m determined to take a new stand
And stand in my shoes without twine, yarns, or strands
Loafers and slippers, sandals, flipflops
No strings are attached to my footwear on top

From here to my grave, I won’t ever look down
To see those lines flopping and dragging the ground
I’m free and untethered as I run my human races
And never again will I stoop low…to tie up my laces

Three Love Letters for a Troubled World
N. Learner/August 2025

Neighborhoods consumed in flames 
Canyonlands set ablaze
Torrential rains darken days
Homes and lives swept away

But Allegany mountains rise
Vibrant greens meet soft blue skies
Covered thick with verdant trees
My fears are calmed in a cool breeze

Nature’s love letter for a troubled world

A home where health is in its ebb
Flesh and bone are out of step
Frailty and pain exposed
A season’s cycle set to close

But still two wrinkled hands reach out
With a silent language that leaves no doubt
A caress of love that crosses time
No need for words, fingers entwined

An old couple’s love letter for a troubled world

Headlines blare of war and turmoil
Economies shrink in full recoil
Where leaders filled with petty spite
Rule countries based on might-makes-right

But two young women set their course
With smarts and grit and primal force
While tough times strike, onward they press
Despite the odds they find success

Daughters’ love letter for a troubled world

Love letters for a troubled world
Love letters for a troubled world
Love letters for a troubled world

Truth Telling
N. Learner | April 2025

A universal truth:

We’re all going to die

You, Me

Everyone in this room
In this town
In this country
On this planet

Everyone and every creature

All humans
All chickadees
All big mouth bass
All cats and dogs
All worms

We all will die
That’s a universal truth

So where does that leave us?

Some believe in an afterlife
Floating in heaven or burning in hell

That’s fine, I guess
But heaven seems boring 

So much of the fun stuff in this life is naughty

Getting drunk 
Getting laid
Wearing vainglorious outfits for a raucous night on the town
Gluttonously overindulging at the all-you-can-eat buffet

Not sure the big guy in charge would approve of such activities 

Hell, on the other hand, just sounds mean

So again, where does that leave us?
Our lives are miniscule in the grand scope of time

Make the most of it
Don’t take it for granted
Know it’s a privilege to be alive
Be thankful you weren’t born a rock
Enjoy it while it lasts

Transitions
N. Learner | March 2025

Moments pass quickly
This one, that one
Here today, gone tomorrow
The sun sets, the weeks end, the years roll by

Tick, tock

Yes, moments pass quickly
But some stand out

Graduating from school and landing your first job 
Getting married and having a baby
Watching your children grow up and leave home
Watching your parents grow old and leave 

These moments are big
They’re moments of consequence
They’re moments of transition

Leaps between life stages
Crossings from one state of being to the next 

We honor these transitions
Look forward to them
Or dread them
They mark the milestones in our journey through time and space

But not all transitions are personal
Some are global
Experienced by all

A favorite transition of mine takes place in March 
Under our feet
Above our heads
All around us 
A transition of cosmic proportions

My favorite transition: winter turning into spring

Snow is Romantic
N. Learner | February 2025

A winter storm drives the snow and stokes the desire

To curl up with your sweetie by a crackling fireplace
Holding a warm cup of cheer
Watching the world turn white through windows safe and warm

Desire

To venture outside with your partner bundled against the cold
Strolling through a landscape transformed
Then playfully tossing snowballs at each other that end in embraces of laughter and kisses

A winter storm creates a wonderland that kindles the memories

Of rejoicing when the radio announces that schools are closed
Falling backwards into drifts where graceful angels emerge
Rolling snowballs that grow and grow into fat snowmen

Memories

Of climbing up dead-man’s hill
Squeezing behind friends on plastic sleds and wooden toboggans
Then whizzing down icy runs that end in piles of laughter and adrenaline  

Snow is romantic
In every sense of the word

Love: A Poet’s Perspective
N. Learner | January 2025

Love

The greatest of all human emotions

Forever setting hearts aflutter
Stomachs a-butterflying

Love brings men home
Takes women away
Crosses continents
Transcends time

Nothing is bigger
Nothing is better

Why then does love have such a dearth of rhyming words? 

Above: There’s nothing above love
Glove: Your love fits me like a glove
Shove: We felt a shove into love
Dove: Your love arrived on the wings of a dove
Of: All I can think of is love

That’s about it

Love: the source of countless poems, songs, books, 
movies, paintings, plays, musicals, and Hallmark cards

And fewer than a half-dozen words rhyme with it

On the other hand, love’s primary antonym enjoys a multitude of rhymes

Hate with its freight, slate, crate, dictate, migrate, agitate, devastate, 
exasperate, subjugate, constipate, and hundreds more

Why so few for love?

Maybe it attests to love’s singular beauty
Its centrality in our lives 
Its essence of our humanity

Love!

Fodder for a Poem
N. Learner | January 2025

Everything can be fodder for a poem.

A Broken Pencil

I see you lying on the floor
Yellow shell and graphite core
Your purpose once to scratch out thoughts
Doodle cats and fill in dots

Now you’re broken, cast aside
Your sharpened point no longer scribes
Like a bad idea that won’t begin
I’ll toss you out and grab a pen

Doing the Dishes

Your faces once shined
Poised bright, full of promise
Then came the onslaught
Piles of vegetation, slabs of meat

What work you did containing the feast
Knives slashing, forks jabbing
Juices intermingling
You emerge covered in grease 
Splattered with flecks of flesh and plant matter 

Dirty, spent, unsightly

But I can revive you
Into the hot suds you go
Gentle clicks and clacks 
Mingling of sharp points and tines
Then rub, rub, rub 
‘Round, ‘round, ‘round 
With a clever cloth of scratchy and soft 
A final swish, a final swash

Clean, restored, beautiful

Fodder

An animal feed 
Of roughage and grain
Fodder feeds a farm
Keeps cattle sustained

But fodder is more
Something that stokes
Ideas and creations
Thoughts that provoke

For those who have ever 
Stared down a blank page
Fodder can break the block
Help inspire and engage

So look for the fodder
Big or small, it’s a must
Fodder is a friend 
To poets like us

New Year’s Resolution: Flossing
N. Learner | January 2025

This year I resolve
To floss my teeth
A small act of maintenance
That should bring relief

To my nagging conscience
That I’m not taking care
Of removing all plaque
That lurks deep in there

Under molars, incisors
My gums and canines
I’ll clean them with vigor
I want them to shine

My mouth is a vessel
To get the words out
All must work well
No decay and no doubts

Ts needs my teeth
For thick thoughts thinking through
Ss push air through gaps
Sipping spoons sunk in stew

Take care of your teeth
All dentists agree
Oral health is a secret
To wellbeing and longevity

So again I resolve 
To floss every day
Toughen my teeth
And let my mouth have its say

Driving the Chesapeake Bay Bridge
N. Learner |January 2025

The first time I drove across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge
I just about died! 

I felt my body preparing to:

Shut down
Slump to the floor
Jam on the accelerator
Crash over the guardrail
Plunge through the void
Smack into the water
Sink under the waves
And never be seen again

Thankfully that didn’t happen

But my knuckles took their sweet time to regain color 
Who knew bridges had such power to terrify?

Apparently, lots of people
There’s even a name for it

“gephyrophobia” 
From the Greek gephura for "bridge” and phobos for "fear".

Thinking back on that day, I see the triggers

The bridge is huge
Four miles of elevated steel and concrete
Fear of large objects is a condition called megalophobia 

I get it

I’m wigged out around large things 
Jumbo jets, skyscrapers, cargo ships, whales

So why not a four-mile-long bridge 

It’s also incredibly tall
 

The roadway dangles 186 feet above water level 
17 stories high

The towers soar 354 feet up
A 35-story skyscraper
45 feet taller than the Statue of Liberty 

Fear of heights is one of our most common phobias 
A condition called acrophobia

Driving onto the bridge is like driving into the sky
It just keeps going up and up and up

Bay Bridge authorities once offered a driving service
Transporting fellow gephyrophobians from one end to the other
 

I can see them 
Crouched in a fetal position in the back seat, eyes tightly shut

I gladly would have signed up 

In the years since, I’ve crossed the Bay Bridge countless times
I’m no longer phased by any of it
I can even look to my left and right
Admiring the view 

Now
If I could only get over my fear of spiders

Garbage Day
N. Learner | December 2024

I sit bolt upright in bed
What’s that sound?
Big truck moving closer
Yikes! I forgot the day
I throw on my robe and slippers
Big truck pulling up to curb
I run to the back alley and fetch my bin
Boom-boom, crunch, whirrrr, bang-bang
Men emptying the bins of my responsible neighbors
I fumble with the gate key
Then burst forth to the curbside
Wait, wait! Here’s mine
I roll my bin to the end of the line
Just in time
Up goes my bin
Away goes my rubbish
Boom-boom, crunch, whirrrr, bang-bang
Thumbs up to the guys
I go back to bed
Garbage day!

Carry On
N. Learner | November 2024 (LYRICS)

When you wake in the morning
And the world’s turned upside down
When you look for a bright side
But there’s none to be found

So sure of the answer
It turns out we were wrong
All we can do
Is carry on

In good faith we made progress
On this road that we tread
Now our faith is broken
Uncertain what lies ahead

The country we thought we knew
Is a country that’s gone
All we can do
Is carry on

Carry on
With those you love
Carry on
Don’t stop thinking of
Ways to make a better world
Together we are strong
All we can do is carry on

Take one step forward
Then two steps back
When all that we care for
Is under attack

But we’ll never give up
For history is long
All we can do now
All we must do now
We’re all still here now
Carry on

End of the Runway
N. Learner | November 2024

For those who gather at Gravelly Point to watch planes take off from National Airport

Planes line up at the top of the runway
Waiting for their big moment

We gather near the bottom of the runway
Eager for their big moment

The next plane moves into position
A bright dot far away
Anticipation builds
For moments it does nothing
Lurking in its awesome sleekness, ready to pounce

At last, we sense movement
Coming towards us
Slowly, slowly
Then faster, faster
Getting bigger, bigger
Finally...taking off!

Its presence hits us with sight, sound, and fury
A mechanical beast of the highest order
A cross between flying submarine and dragon
Super science meets small-boy fantasy

Roaring overhead, the noise rattles our bones and shakes our imagination
Then the beast carves a path westward, slicing the sky with utmost grace

We burst into applause

Hope Springs Eternal

N. Learner/November 2024

Hope springs eternal, they say
I get the eternal part
I’m eternally hopeful for many things in my life:

That my poems will be published
That my candidate will win the election
That it won’t rain on Saturday

But the spring part trips me up

I know it’s a verb, but I see it as a noun
A mystical spring pushing forth hopes like effervescent champagne bubbles

But that just raises the question: where do those hopes land?

Floating on a placid lake of success?
Popped on the rocks of disappointment?
Stuck in a bog of uncertainty?

I think bog is the correct metaphor 

Hopes trying to stay alive, escaping hungry alligators
Hopes trying to stay focused, swatting thirsty mosquitoes
Hopes fading away, sinking into the mud of Saturday rains

Hope is eternal
Where it comes from and where it goes is debatable

So Shy

N. Learner/October 2024

Jimmy sits back, so shy
Never could figure out why
Every time he talks
His palms would sweat

He tries to look cool, nonchalant 
Never let on what he really wants
To say hello to the girl in the front row
The curly haired brunette

Jimmy’s problem he can’t hide
His tongue is totally tied
Helpless as she 
Slowly walks away

If she only knew 
His troubles to be someone who
Could tell her what he
Really wants to say

But Jimmy likes to sing
With a golden voice, it is his thing
In choir he’s a soloist
The best who knocks ‘em on the floor

He’s got a concert coming soon
With a solo he’ll croon
He hopes the girl comes
And hears his vocals soar

With a swish, the curtains open
He feels a flash of fear and hope when 
The curly haired brunette is there
Sitting in the front row

The choir launches into music
He feels his heart start to beat quick
Steps forward for his solo
His face all aglow

So soon the concert ends
Jimmy kills time with his choir friends
Standing by the backstage door
Ready to leave, ready to go

Just then the door opens wide 
The curly haired brunette steps inside
Slowly walks up to Jimmy
And sweetly says hello

An Arts Education
By N. Learner, October 2024

Science
Technology
Engineering
Mathematics

STEM: the means by which we make our world work

Science – prescribing a method to investigate and understand how things are, have been, and will be
Technology – giving us the tools, machines and things to live our lives
Engineering – figuring out ways to build the tools, machines and things to live our lives
Mathematics – providing the principles that underly all of the above

These things are important

Without STEM:

We wouldn’t be in this building
Sitting on chairs with four legs
Walking across a level floor
Flipping on the lights
Turning up the heat
Looking out the windows

Instead: we’d be competing rough with the animals of forest and field to make our living

No doubt, schools should teach STEM

But is STEM enough?

Of course not

Humans are creatures of expression

We sing
We dance
We paint
We act
We write poems

We engage in A-R-T-S

ARTS: the means by which we interpret our world around us

ARTS and STEM go hand in hand

STEM describes the microbiological and hormonal changes that occur in the body when two people are attracted to each other
ARTS lets you write a love song

STEM explains plant germination, photosynthesis, floral differentiation, pollination, and decomposition.
ARTS lets you paint a beautiful bouquet of flowers

STEM provides digital tools and cyber platforms that allow us to record and share our experiences with others around the world
ARTS gives us the creativity, skills, and unique perspectives that make those experiences delightful

Yes…both STEM and ARTS are crucial to humans in the early 21^st century

STEM allows us to live our lives
ARTS makes life worth living 

Hope

N. Learner/November 2024

Hope

A small word with huge implications

A lightness of being
A sense of possibility
A foundation on which we build our:

Dreams
Desires
Goals
Aspirations
Love

Hope gets us through the dark times, knowing that:

Good things will come again
Bad things will be averted

Hope

A barbershop reopening in a war-torn city
A green shoot rising through the gray ash after a forest fire
A ballot cast in a fraught election

Hope!

Costa Brava Buses
N. Learner/July 2024

Giant buses ply the roads
Like whales on the hunt
Flinging past the roundabouts
Each stop sign an affront

Those of us deep in the belly
Hang on with each turn
Braking, surging, pushing forth
Our stomachs in full churn

The bus ride up through Costa Brava
Where all towns boast a station
Winding roads ‘round narrow coves
Lead us to our destination

Three hours on this lunging beast
Not sure I’ll make it back
I stumble out on stable ground
Proud I didn’t yak

Welcome to Our Small Town (lyrics)
N. Learner/October 2023

Go ahead and say your peace
Stand up proud and be at ease
No one here will ever try to put you down
Stand up tall, keep up your chin
Be comfortable there in your skin
You can try it all in our small town

Express yourself loud and clear
Do what you want without fear
You are in a place where love abounds
Here you’ll live without abuse
We accept all kinds of views
You can be yourself in our small town

Neighbors help each other out
With kindness you can bring about
A world where no one’s ever left behind
Friendly people, cheerful vibe
I know a place where you can thrive
Let me show you what you will find 

Come on down to our small town
You can try that here in our small town
With open minds we take it all
Build up hope and tear down walls
You can try it all in our small town

Gift for the Sea God
N. Learner/July 2023

Sea gods demand salt offerings
For the bounties they provide
A gift of simple gratitude
For their turning of the tides

Of course, I’m happy to oblige
I’m a guest in their world wet
So here it is, my gift to you
Take the salt out of my sweat

But now your winds whip up the waves
Whitecaps crash upon the shore
Gods call out, “That’s not enough!
We want salt, give us more!”

And then by chance, my second daughter
Underwater scrapes her knee
Drops of blood so red emerge
And mix their salts into the sea

Surely this should satisfy
A sacrifice beyond mere needs
And yet I fear we’ve only stoked
The hungry gods’ sense of greed

And thus, I offer up myself
A part of me I’ll give quite freely
A salt from deep inside my being
I give to you – my pee-pee

La Sardana
N. Learner/July 2023

Play your nasally music
Not in the concert hall
But in the town square

Play your nasally music louder
People will gather in circles
Move their feet to ancient rhythms

Play your nasally music faster
People will bounce to your beat
Hands raised in joy

Play our nasally music together
With brass and three-stringed bass
Tiny flute and drum trilling in another round

Play your nasally music
Dance, dance your gentle motions
Bounce, bounce arms raised high

La Sardana

My Kingdom for a Pencil Sharpener
N. Learner/July 2023

I use Ticonderoga No. 2s

I started my pencil habit as a young newspaper reporter
Out on the beat, outside taking notes
A grizzled old-timer told me to avoid pens
“Ink freezes in the winter”

Sound advice

But my pencil affection developed earlier in life
As schoolboys we loved nothing more
Than asking the teacher if we could
Sharpen our pencils

It was the perfect excuse to get up from our desks
We’d stand at the wall-mounted sharpener
Grinding our pencils down to needle-point perfection
Taking pride in who could write with the smallest nub

This brings me to my current dilemma
Pencils need sharpeners – I don’t have one
I’m left scrambling for alternatives
Scraping it on a rock
Whittling it with a serrated paring knife

Oh, my kingdom for a pencil sharpener

FISH I
N. Learner/July 2023

Best investment you can make
A good quality snorkeling mask

Suction it into place
And enter a world of magical beings

Creatures that breathe under water
Creatures that float motionless in space
Creatures with iridescent silver skin
Creatures with yellow stripes from head to toe
Creatures big, creatures small

Going about their business
Nibbling at a meal on the rocks
Moving through fields of white daisy seaweed
Ignoring their shelled brethren affixed to the rock like cement
Avoiding spiky urchins hiding among the rocks

Snorkeling transports you to a magical world of fish

FISH II
N. Learner/July 2023

I seldom ate fish as a boy growing up in 1970s Michigan
The occasional McFish sandwich
The occasional Red Lobster visit

Fish was not the dish
Back in 1970s Michigan

Sometimes my mom would make fish at home
Filling the house with fishy smells
Filling me dread
Slumped at the table, taking a tentative bite
Inevitably a thin bone getting stuck in my throat

Ack…this is why I don’t like fish, I’d complain

This was not the case with my Catalan wife
Fish in Barcelona is a thing of pride
The Mediterranean Sea is filled with fish
Blissfully unaware of how delicious they taste

Prepare it simply with

Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Garlic
Onions
Oregano

I’ve been married for nearly 30 years.
I eat a lot of fish these days

Sting
N. Learner/July 2023

Ouch, why did you do that?
I was just passing through
Minding my own business
What did I do to you?

My leg now throbs
Sharp waves of pain
And yet you still buzz ‘round my face
Challenging me to go again

Get away from me
Come on now, shoo
Don’t test your luck
I’ll smash you to brown goo

I hobble home
Pain slowly subsides
Your poison dissipates
Throughout my insides

How strange this small creature
Furious at trifling things
But when he comes your way
Beware of his sting

Little Green Umbrella
N. Learner/July 2023

There’s nothing like
The shade of a tree
Except the shade
Of my little green umbrella

Potato Chips
N. Learner/July 2023

I’m a potato chip connoisseur

As others may discern fine wines
Pass judgement on Italian operas
Discuss the comparative merits of
Kobe beef versus Argentine beef

I know potato chips

So here is my learned verdict
Catalan potato chips are the best
Especially Frit Ravich Autenticas Caseras

Buy some now!

Ants I
July 2023

Ant Scout No. 753012 finds a crumb
Proudly he carries it back and forth
Anticipating the grand meal ahead

Ant Scout No. 827314 confronts
Ant Scout No. 753012 hungry

The two Ant Scots engage
Pulling, tugging, fighting
Each wanting the prize

Ant Scout No. 827314 overpowers
Ant Scout No. 753012
Scurries away with his ill-gotten booty

Ant Scout No. 753012 runs in circles
Angry, dejected, stomach empty

Ants II
N. Learner/July 2023

Eating outside on the patio
Enjoying olives and cheese tapas
Lost in the flavors of Catalonia

Then…

I feel a crawling sensation on my feet

Look down…

Ants!

Hundreds of them swarming up my leg

Yikes!

Up I stand
Brush, brush, brush
Move the table, look for the source

There is it, a small sandy mound between two tiles

Think!

Fill bucket with water
Toss! Woosh!
Water and ants flow downhill into the garden.
One more bucket for good measure

Back to my tapas

Tattoos
N. Learner/July 2023

Costa Brava – land of tattoos

Delicate ones grace
Ankles, wrists, shoulders

Killer ones cover
Arms legs, backs, bellies

Super killer ones creep up
Necks, cheeks foreheads

Who am I to judge

Still, I prefer a clean canvas
On which to paint my imaginations

Beach
N. Learner/July 2023

A trillion grains of sand push through my toes
Creeping up my ankles
Feet sink in the shifting ground
I leave a trail of circles

Searching for an open spot
Where other humans are but few
I find a place and stake my claim
Where I can lay, enjoy the view

But what is this? Another soul
On a mission just like mine
He drops his gear in front of me
Now all I see is his behind

To move or stay, the question nags
When perfection is but out of reach
It’s a choice I often face
On my visit to the beach